


Golden Dust and Ashes

by spirithorse



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 22:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirithorse/pseuds/spirithorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little drabbles in the SnK universe with the dynamic of daemons added. The drabbles will be in no particular order and be labeled for spoilers as they come up. Pairings and rating subject to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nothing in training had prepared Jean for watching his comrades die in battle. Then again, nothing in training had prepared him for finding his best friend's body either.

The grief was something he could handle. Jean could tuck it away into a corner of his mind easily, bury it underneath the shock and the little bit of awe that come with the realization that he was still alive.

He could dig it up again when it was needed, like when the bodies had been burned. Or he could let it out in little fragments, the times he had screamed insults at the sky or at the others for letting Marco die without anyone noticing and then plead with some unknown and uncaring deity with his wreck of a voice to let his friend come back.

And then he could push the grief away again because the world went on even when Marco didn't.

What he was utterly unprepared for was how hard the little things would hit.

On the first day after he found Marco's body, Jean had woken up and then panicked because he couldn't find Maike.

It was a stupid thing to panic about, because he could feel that she was close by. He would have felt through their bond his his daemon had gone too far from him. But he was used to seeing the gryfalcon at the foot of his bed, just like he was used to Aranka's weight on the end of his covers.

There wasn't anything there that morning and it took until Maike had hopped from her perch at the head of his bunk that Jean even realized where she had been. It had been so long since Maike had slept on the wooden rails at the head of the bed, not since Jean had hauled Marco over to take the bunch beside him because Thomas snored too loud and Marco didn't get offended when Jean ended up wrapped partially around him in the mornings. Their arrangement had lasted three years, long enough for Jean to get used to the sight of Maike nestled on Aranka's back at the foot of their beds.

Jean picked up Maike from the empty pillow next to his, holding the gyrfalcon close to his chest. He didn't squeeze her close to him, no matter how much he wanted to. Maike's feathers were puffed up, meaning that she was probably annoyed at him for his needless panic. She would probably yell at him later, which would dissolve into one of their arguments.

Marco and Aranka wouldn't be there to ease them back. To tease them both for being too stubborn and outspoken.

He curled over his daemon, biting his lip to keep quiet.

Aranka wouldn't come bounding up to them in the mess hall, wearing that stupid harness that all flightless daemons wore. The harness was supposed to help the soldiers attach their daemons to the 3D maneuver gear so that they could stay safe.

Jean didn't know if the harness had even been used. Marco's gear was missing, probably in some titan's stomach, and Aranka had already become golden dust, lost to the smoke over Trost.

"Damn it!" He released Maike and punched the wall beside his bed. The ache in his hand was a nice change, something that he could focus on other than the endless ache that was starting in his chest. Jean punched the wall again for good measure, hoping that the second ache would go away.

It didn't and it made him want to scream or pull the covers over his head and ignore everything.

Maike settled on his shoulder, her weight getting him to turn his head so that he could look at her.

His daemon looked as ragged as he felt, her feathers out of order and still streaked with ash and blood from yesterday's work. She didn't even seem to notice it, Maike reaching out to nip at his hair. "Come on. You'll miss breakfast if you don't move."

"Of course. We don't want to starve."

Maike didn't rise to the bait like he thought she would. Instead, she just slumped on his shoulder. For a moment, it looked like she was going to tuck her head under her wing. Instead, she just stared at where he had tossed his jacket the night before, right at the pocket where he had tucked the bone. Jean still didn't know if it was Marco's but it was better than nothing.

The bone was the only thing that Maike would get, because Aranka was gone completely. 

A single fragment of bone was all that was left of them. The rest of Aranka and Marco were golden dust and ashes.

"Jean."

"Yeah." He grunted as he hauled himself out of bed, not bothering to change. He had worn the clothes yesterday and they reeked of smoke and rotting bodies, but there was more of the same work waiting for them today, so it hardly mattered.

He picked up his jacket, slinging it on automatically. Maike only left his shoulder to allow him the motion, settling back down quickly. Once she would have flown ahead, trying to taunt Theron into leaping up and snapping at her, just to annoy Eren. Or she would have settled on Aranka's back, holding on to the leather straps as the hound had raced out to the courtyard.

She snuggled up to him, almost hiding herself under his chin so her feathers were constantly pressed against Jean's neck. Jean reached up to stroke her, not sure what the reassurance would do in the face of the yawning emptiness that waited for them.

They would just have to brace themselves and push on. It was the only thing left to them to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marco - [Aranka (Pharaoh Hound)](http://www.kelb-tal-fenek.de/Website-Grafiken/pharaoh-hound.jpg)
> 
> Jean - [Maike (Gyrfalcon)](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5sopixDCH1rv4l4do1_400.jpg)
> 
> Eren - [Theron (wolf)](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5f/Kolm%C3%A5rden_Wolf.jpg)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for chapter 50 of the manga and based off of [this](http://realisticanatomy.tumblr.com/post/63263149148/chapter-51-spoilers).

Jean remembered hitting his head, that much was clear. What followed after was the fuzzy part.

He remembered pain, although he couldn’t tell if it was from Maike or from himself. It could have been both, considering the way that the Armored Titan had been tossing the other titans. A flying titan could have reached up to were Maike would have been circling the battle with Zrinka, the two birds waiting for their chance to dart in and peck at the titans’ eyes.

Then again, he wasn’t in pain  _now_ , he just remembered that there had been. And it had been right after Armin had shouted his name…

Jean shook his head and stood up. Or he had always been standing. He didn’t know. Everything was still too fuzzy.

He reached up to wipe at the side of his head, expecting his fingers to come away with blood only to have them clean. Jean stared at his fingers, rubbing them together for a moment before abandoning the puzzle. Nothing was making sense, so he had to rely on the only sure thing that he had going for him.

“Maike?”

She wasn’t there for a moment, making Jean panic. She was always close or he could feel her through their bond. He and Maike had never managed to get the same kind of separation that Armin and Zrinka could.

Then she was there on his shoulder, her familiar weight just where it should be. Jean turned to look at her, surprised that she was clean again. She had been flying hard over the past couple of days, darting ahead as far as their bond would allow before dropping back to rest with him. And then there was the battle with the titans.

Jean’s fingers stilled where he was petting Maike, frowning as he tried to remember what exactly happened with the battle. It had to have been over for him to be here. His fingers drummed against his shoulder, Jean looking up to where Maike circled over his head.

He should have been able to remember what had happened, because he was obviously alive. Maike wouldn’t be with him if he wasn’t. But where he was looked nothing like the plain they had been fighting on. It didn’t look like much of anything, Jean getting fleeing impression of different things before he had to stop concentrating. Trying to focus make his head hurt.

What he had to do was to go and find where everyone else was and then regroup. They could worry about an explanation for the mess later.

Jean raised a hand to wave to Maike only to feel something press against his leg. It was far too large to be Maike, Jean looking down in confusion.

Aranka stared up at him, her mouth open and her tongue lolling out. Jean could feel her tail thumping against his other leg from where she stood curved around him. He stared back at her, reaching down in a haze to rest a hand on her head. Aranka just closed her eyes and whined, leaning into the touch.

He had heard all the stories about touching other people’s daemons, how it was taboo except for certain circumstances. About how it felt like a jolt of electricity up the arm and like the best thing on earth when it was with someone you loved. Touching Aranka now just felt like nothing, like peace.

Jean frowned, intending to lift his hand away when he felt the brush of feathers against his wrist. For a brief moment, he thought he saw Maike on Aranka’s back, but then she was sitting on Marco’s shoulder, just like she had been for the entire time he had been standing there. Which had to have been a while because Jean wouldn’t have gone out to fight without a squad behind him. Armin had been there too, but Jean hadn’t seen him or Zrinka.

He smiled as Marco reached up to rest a hand on Maike’s back, turning to look around.

He thought he heard a huff from Marco, and then his friend was standing in front of him. “What are you doing, Jean?”

“I’m looking for everyone else. They’re here somewhere.”

Jean went to turn around again, only to be stopped when Marco reaching out to touch his cheek. With gentle pressure, Marco turned Jean’s face back to front, not removing his hand. “No, I meant  _here._  What are you doing here, Jean?”

“I…” He stared at Marco, trying to figure out the question.

It was obvious what he was doing there, Jean just couldn’t understand why Marco kept asking him. He wanted to reach forward and slap Marco’s arm away, but he was too tired. All he wanted to do was stay where he was, where there were no titans and no worries, whatever his worries had been. Jean sighed and tilted his cheek into Marco’s touch, his fingers digging into Aranka’s short fur.

“I don’t know.” The words were mumbled against Marco’s palm, Jean not looking away from Marco’s face.

Marco’s eyes were pretty, the same brown as his daemon’s. Jean wondered why he had never noticed that before, especially after living in close quarters with Marco for so long.

He sighed and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of calm that was spreading from where his hand rested on Aranka. It felt nice, something that he was willing to just stand and enjoy. Or sit. Sitting or lying down would be so much better.

Jean didn’t notice that he was swaying on his feet until Marco’s hand grabbed onto his shoulder. He snapped open his eyes, glaring at his friend. The touch had felt good and he couldn’t understand why Marco was shaking him.

“Focus Jean.”

“It hurts.”

“I know it does, but focus for me.”

“I don’t want to. I want to stay here.”

“Well you can’t.”

Jean stumbled back as step as Maike was forcibly shoved into his arms. He let go of Aranka to get a better hold on his daemon, flinching as the calm that he was feeling was forcibly shattered. Jean clung more tightly to Maike, trying to right himself again, but it didn’t help. Maike dug her talons into his arm, Jean using the chance to reach out for Aranka or Marco. He didn’t know which. All he knew was that he wanted that feeling back.

“Marco.”

Marco caught his arm, giving his hand a squeeze. “You really have to go, Jean. They need you out there.”

“Only if you come too.”

“I can’t.”

Jean frowned, shifting his hold on Maike as she flopped up onto his arm. The gyrfalcon glared at the Marco and Aranka. “You promised that you would follow us.”

“We did.” Aranka was in front of him again, Jean swaying a bit as she used him to balance herself. The Pharaoh Hound nuzzled Maike, adding in a short lick for good measure. “And we will. It’s just…”

She turned to look at Marco, who shrugged. “It’s too early.”

“I don’t-”

“Keep fighting, Jean.”

He looked down at Aranka who nudged his arm. “We’re proud of you.”

When he looked back up, Aranka was back at Marco’s side, Marco’s hand resting on her harness. Jean looked down to where Marco’s hand was still wrapped around his arm, a few of Marco’s fingers brushing against Maike’s feathers. He swallowed and looked back up. “When can I stay?”

Marco’s thumb brushed against his wrist, the motion accompanied by a smile. “Soon.”

Aranka was at his side again, bumping up against him. “But not too soon.”

Jean didn’t have the time to come up with an answer, Marco giving him a gentle push backward as Aranka shoved at his legs. Jean yelped and got a better hold on Maike before he fell backward. For a moment it felt like flying, then it turned into a freefall.

He fumbled his hold on Maike, screaming her name as she was lost to him. He never heard if she replied, because then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Jean - Maike (Gyrfalcon)](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5sopixDCH1rv4l4do1_400.jpg)
> 
> [Marco - Aranka (Pharaoh Hound)](http://www.kelb-tal-fenek.de/Website-Grafiken/pharaoh-hound.jpg)
> 
> [Armin – Zrinka (raven) ](http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/PHOTO/LARGE/common_raven_glamor.jpg)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for events going on in the manga, mostly for what is going on in Bertl's head.

Gabija was playing with some of the other daemons, mostly the dog ones, while the recruits had some rare downtime. It was good for them to get some rest when they could and use the chance to act their age.

Bertholdt couldn’t watch her.

She had her rump in the air, her tail wagging as she tried to get some of the smaller dog daemons to come and play with her, Aranka and Theron. Most of the other ones were slow to be lured out, Gabija barking and jumping to her feet. Bertholdt winced as she capered about, looking for all the world like another one of the dogs that were common among the recruits.

But that was wrong, just as wrong as she was acting. She wasn’t just another dog, no matter how many times Reiner lied about her or what he had put down on his forms. Gabija was a wolf, an intelligent predator that had perfectly matched Reiner when they had been living outside of the walls. She had played then, but it had been different, it had been the play of a hunter, a daemon that knew that it was just practice for real fights. Not like this.

She was a good match for Reiner even with her change, because he was doing the same thing. Bertholdt could see Reiner leaning up against the railing of the boy’s quarters, laughing along with the rest of the recruits. There was nothing wrong with that, their mission rested on how well they interacted with their fellow soldiers, on how well they could lie. But Bertholdt worried that Reiner wasn’t bothering to lie anymore. He was like Gabija, forgetting what he had been in favor of playing soldier, like Gabija was playing at being just another dog.

Bertholdt leaned back against the wall, trying not to look at either of them. Viltautas was still where he was draped around Bertholdt’s neck. From the flashes of annoyance was worry he was getting from the Margay, Bertholdt could tell that Viltautas was getting worried too.

Annie had already talked to them once about it, demanding that they get Reiner under control as her daemon had hissed at the both of them. They had to get Reiner back to focusing on the mission instead of putting so much effort into his cover. It would just be harder for him when they finally moved.

Of course, Annie hadn’t said that. She tried to keep aloof from everyone, even the two people that she was working with. Bertholdt didn’t want to be the one to watch as Reiner came to terms with the realization that every one of his friends would hate him if he admitted that he was a titan shifter. That would certainly get Reiner and Gabija back to the way that they had been, but it wasn’t a version of the two of them that Bertholdt wanted to see.

He bit his lip, considering the situation. He had already talked to the two of them when Annie had first warned him. Reiner had just waved him off, saying that it was all an act. But Bertholdt could tell that it wasn’t, they had been friends for far too long for him to be so easily fooled.

The problem was that Reiner was stubborn, as unyielding as the armor that his titan form had and Gabija was just as bad. Until they could make their move, Bertholdt and Viltautas would just have to run interference.

“Vilta.”

His daemon nodded and slipped from his shoulders, the Margay giving itself a shake. Then Viltautas sauntered off, looking for all the world like a cat. Although, Bertholdt could see the few moments when Viltautas forgot himself and dropped into his usual predatory slink.

The slip up was hidden as the Margay got closer to Gabija, the daemon dropping into a crouch and inching forward until he was within striking distance.

Bertholdt could tell the exact moment when Reiner figured out what Viltautas was up to, watching as his friend tensed a moment before the Margay jumped for Gabija.

The wolf was taking by surprise, Gabija staggering to the side for a few steps before giving a bark of greeting. Her attention was well and truly distracted from the other dogs now that Viltautas was clinging onto her. She turned, playfully snapping at his tail as the Margay clambered over her, the two of them dissolving into playful wrestling.

With Gabija taken care of, Bertholdt let himself relax. She wasn’t playing with the other dogs, getting too used to being one of those dogs. With Viltautas, she could get as rough as she wanted because the Margay would avoid her easily. They had known each other for so long that both daemons had the measure of the other. The two of them would wrestle until they were exhausted and then sprawl out in the sun. It would give Vilatautas the chance to work off some excess energy and keep Gabija from continuing her association with the other daemons.

It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it was the only one that Bertholdt could think of.

Bertholdt just hoped that it would be enough to draw Reiner and Gabija away before they both got hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Bertholdt – Viltautas (Margay, but he lies and says Vilta is a Bengal Cat)](http://photos.zoochat.com/large/margay3-151264.jpg) 
> 
> [Reiner – Gabija (Grey Wolf, lies and calls her a Malamute) ](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f5/Howlsnow.jpg)


	4. Chapter 4

Despite all of her expectations and those of Dr. Jaeger, Shin didn’t settle after her parents had been murdered.

It was a well known fact that children that underwent trauma would have daemons that settled early and settled wild. Mikasa had seen a few traveling around Shiganshina with Dr. Jaeger during her early months with the family, back when she was been too scared to let any of them out of her sight for long. Most of those daemons had come from people living in the slums, so her mental picture was skewed. Then again, all of those daemons had been small things, adapted to survive in tight spaces and to get away quickly. For what had happened to her, everyone expected something larger and defensive, like a bear or a large cat. Something that would reflect the way that Mikasa clung to her new family.

For the time that they had lived with the Jaegers, Shin partially conformed to expectations. When they went out with the whole family and especially with Carla and Grisha, Shin was a leopard by her side. But the same form wouldn’t work for when they were chasing after Eren.

Eren was too fast and Theron fond to changing forms too quickly for the time it would take for a leopard to shoulder its way through the crowd. And, with the logic of the younger bullies, it was far easier to change into something small that could slip between the fighting daemons and deal damage where it mattered. All the other children were confident that their daemon could change into something larger and stronger when Shin came wading in among them. It took Shin and Mikasa two fights to realize that and change their tactics.

Mikasa preferred when Shin was in a smaller shape too, because then he could lounge across her shoulders with his nose buried in the scarf that Eren had given them. It didn’t matter that the scarf had stopped smelling like Eren and started smelling like them, it was comfortable.

Besides, having Shin small meant that he could race along the ground and hop up onto Theron’s back. Theron always went to a larger form before a fight, no matter what. If Shin was already clinging to him, then Shin could easily slip in when he was needed, usually just before Mikasa came running over to deal out her version of justice.

She hadn’t been able to protect her first family, but she was going to protect her new one to her last breath.

Except she hadn’t been able to do that either.

Shin hadn’t settled when Carla Jaeger had died, he had just gone quiet. For the first time since their parents had been killed, Shin shifted into softer forms; rabbits and mice. It was all an attempt to keep Eren calm and with them. He wouldn’t leave Theron behind after all, and his daemon was content to curl around Shin and not move the few times they were allowed to stop. And, for a while, it had worked.

Then they had been dropped off with the rest of the refugees.

Mikasa had seen how they were looked at, how they were pushed to the side. None of them were wanted inside of Wall Rose. Worse yet there would be little food for them until they started working, which would be hard to find with so many ready hands. The odds were against them and none of them could afford to be coddled anymore. Her family was gone, leaving her only Eren and Armin who both needed to be watched over and protected. What they both had wanted more than anything was for Shin to stride around as a leopard again, because then no one would try to mess with the three of them. Theron was already threatening enough as a wolf, the addition of another large daemon would just encourage people to leave them alone.

But there wasn’t enough space. Until they could scrounge up the money to pay for their own tiny apartment, they were living in a shelter or ducking out into the alleyways when they were chased out to allow new refugees in. Theron had trouble enough with the space restrictions, curling up nearly on top of Eren or being used as a pillow. To have a leopard would be unthinkable, especially with the threat of someone touching her daemon.

So Shin had shrunk to a Serval, one of his favorite forms from before. In Shiganshina, it had been easy enough for him to hop on Theron or slip in between daemon fights. It had also allowed him to lay on the shelf that was just to the right of the stove, out of the way but well within reach of the warm air. Better yet, Shin could perch on her shoulders and tangle himself up in their scarf. He was safe and small, but still fierce and agile.

Mikasa hadn’t registered that Shin had settled until after Armin’s grandfather had been sent on the reclaiming mission. It was only when Armin had pointed out that Shin hadn’t shifted for a while that she had paid attention to that fact. She couldn’t even remember the last time he had become something other than the Serval, but it didn’t matter. They felt right and they could still protect Eren.

And, if she held Shin a little tighter that night, it was because she was happy.  Everything was normal, even after everything the two of them had suffered. They would be able to follow Eren into the military now, and no one would have a reason to turn them away.

* * *

Eren knew the moment that Theron settled, although he was a little distracted when it happened. While his daemon settling was something important, his concentration was on getting his mother out from underneath the rubble of their house.

He had knelt to lift the wooden beam from his mother, Mikasa and Shin taking up position on the other side. Eren didn’t remember what Shin was, he just remembered shouting at Theron to distract the titan. There was nothing he had expected his daemon to do, titans tended to avoid daemons and head straight for the humans, but Eren had hoped that having something nipping at its heels would make the titan slow down.

Theron had bounded over the rubble to a clear space and had shifted into a wolf with a growl. And then he had stayed that way, even as Hannes carried him and Mikasa away. On the boat that they were deposited in, Theron had stuck close to Eren, growling at everyone that wasn’t Mikasa or Shin. It hadn’t bought them a lot of room, but it had been enough to keep people away while Eren was struggling through his mire of rage and grief.

Theron had shook himself once and sat down on the boat, and that had been it. Officially, Theron had settled the moment that Eren had vowed to kill all of the titans, but Eren never counted that moment. The last time that Theron had changed had been when Eren had shouted at him to protect them, and his daemon had chosen to do it as a wolf.

It suited Eren just fine, because people left him alone. Wolf daemons made people uneasy, and uneasy people stayed away from the six of them. All it took was a snarl from Theron and most people shied away.

Even better was the fact that it meant that Theron would be able to keep up with him when he joined the Survey Corps.

Theron was perfect. A wolf was better suited to run alongside a horse than a mouse. A wolf could defend itself better than a bird.

A wolf could help him exterminate the titans.

* * *

Most of the children that had escaped from Shiganshina ended up with settled daemons within the first two months. Those that didn’t had their daemons settling within the first six months, between the failed attempt to reclaim Wall Maria and the hard work they had to do to stay alive. Armin was not one of them.

If the circumstances had been any different, Armin would have been ashamed of himself because he wasn’t measuring up again. But Zrinka could still change, and he wasn’t a burden because of it. She could scuttle off to the limit of their bond, which was growing longer with each attempt, to find them food no matter what the other five were doing. Often what Zrinka brought back was their only meal. The kindness first shown to them had quickly worn thin, even with everyone pulling their weight.

Zrinka could also help him, changing into a bear when space allowed it and cuddling him close. Eren and Theron to keep him warm, the wolf’s shaggy coat used as a blanket or a pillow depending on the day. Mikasa only had Shin, but Armin never heard her complain about her smaller daemon or the cold. She just continued on as she had since they had been pulled back behind Wall Rose.

Even with Zrinka still able to change, Armin missed what she used to be. Now she was always taking the forms of mice, rats and cats, things that wouldn’t be considered too strange to be seen roaming around. Before she had always been a bird. Before she had always been trying to fly to the top of the wall, only to have their bond pull her back before she got a chance to look over. By now, Armin thought that she could at least sit on the inner edge of the wall without the two of them feeling pain, but they never had the time. He was working in the fields all day and she was off scavenging for them. Their dreams of seeing outside would have to wait a little longer.

Armin got used to seeing Zrinka as land bound, so much so that he had expected her to settle like that. She had spent a few weeks as a rat and then a month as a cat before switching back. Armin wished he could have said something to her, that whatever she settled as would be alright, but it wouldn’t be the truth. He wanted her to be a bird, something that could fly so one of them could at least get to live out their dream. Armin had military training looming ahead of him, something that made his stomach twist. He wasn’t athletic like Mikasa or Eren and there was a chance that he wouldn’t make it through the training.

Out of the two of them, at least Zrinka could get a peek of the outside world, even if he got kicked out of training. And Armin convinced himself that he would be alright with it. Just as long as Zrinka got a look.

Thankfully, she settled two days before they all joined the military.

Armin woke up feeling cold, strange because Zrinka had been a bear the night before and he had fallen asleep snuggled into her. She wasn’t behind him, nor was she too far off. He had gotten good at sensing when she was close.

He rolled over to his other side, staring at the raven that was perched at the far end of the alley. When Armin twitched his fingers, Zrinka hopped over. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to fly away, but she puffed out her chest instead. Zrinka snapped out her wings, making an awkward turn in place before settling herself down again. “This is it.”

She obviously was waiting for him to disapprove, but Armin didn’t care. He scooped her up and held her close to his chest. Zrinka fluffed out her feathers in surprise, but allowed him to squeeze her.

She was a beautiful raven. She had wings. She could fly.

It meant that one of them could escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Mikasa – Shin (Serval)](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/70/Leptailurus_serval_-Serengeti_National_Park,_Tanzania-8.jpg)
> 
> [Eren – Theron (Eurasian Wolf)](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5f/Kolm%C3%A5rden_Wolf.jpg)
> 
> [Armin – Zrinka (raven)](http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/PHOTO/LARGE/common_raven_glamor.jpg)


	5. Chapter 5

They were swinging away from the female titan when Mikasa noticed it. Theron wasn’t following them.

She turned her swing into a tight spin, catching herself on a nearby tree. With Levi continuing on in front of her, she didn’t have much time to look for the wolf. She hadn’t gone after Eren to only rescue half of him. Mikasa twisted her wrist to dig the blade deeper into the tree, leaning out to peer at the ground.

All the trainees learned to deal with the tug of separation during their initial training. It was never a full separation, no one had ever considered such a thing. The titans ignored daemons, apparently unable to tell them apart from other animals. Daemons could get crushed or grabbed during battle, but that was because they weren’t fast enough or panicked when their humans got into trouble. With the proper mindset, daemons could be useful against titans, biting at their ankles as a distraction. Apparently the taboo of having someone else touch your daemon didn’t extend to titans.

Theron would have been able to keep up with the horses or Eren when the rest of Levi’s squad had taken to their 3D Maneuver Gear. He might have even been able to keep up with Eren when he shifted to a titan, but Theron wouldn’t be able to keep up with them with the pace that Levi was setting, especially with Eren unconscious. If Eren wasn’t awake, then Theron wouldn’t be either.

Mikasa muttered a curse under her breath. Of course Levi would forget about something like that. The corporal’s daemon was small enough to be on his person at all times. Hawisia probably didn’t even need to be strapped onto Levi’s gear, the rat could probably settle herself into a pocket for the duration of the mission.

She reached into her jacket, fumbling with the clasps that held Shin in place. As soon as the last buckle was undone, the serval wiggled out from underneath her jacket. He jumped to the nearest branch of the tree, glancing around from his perch. It probably wouldn't give them any advantage, but Mikasa felt better having two pairs of eyes looking out for Theron.

Shin lifted his head and took a deep breath, quickly shaking his head. “Too much steam. It just stinks like Titan.”

“Right.” Mikasa took a deep breath and tugged on her sword, feeling it slip free. If Shin couldn’t find Theron, then she would go back and find him, the female titan be damned. In fact, Mikasa looked forward to meeting the titan and the chance to give her an extra cut or two for trying to take Eren away. “Come back and hold on.”

She waited for the familiar weight of Shin to drop onto her shoulders before she pushed away from the tree, already eyeing where she would shoot her hook next. Her daemon shifted on her shoulders to make up for the quick direction change, Shin pressing his nose into their scarf.

Distantly, she thought she heard Levi call her name, but Mikasa was too busy beginning a sweep low to the ground. At the moment, the female titan was still healing, staring blankly at the ground. As much as Mikasa wanted to take a swipe at the titan, she didn’t want to risk missing Theron or getting Eren back to the others. Punishment for taking Eren would have to wait until later, there were other priorities.

The first sweep over the ground didn’t show any sign of the wolf, Mikasa turning and aiming in the direction that the female titan had run. If Theron was anywhere, he would be back where Eren had fallen.

She kept close to the ground, glad that the thick branches and leaves of the trees prevented much undergrowth from springing up. It would have been impossible to spot the wolf in a thick tangle.

Shin was the first one to see Theron, the serval shifting from his position crouched close to her shoulders. He reached down to bat at her arm for good measure, but Mikasa was already turning.

She hit the ground at a run, slowing down as she stared at the prone form of the daemon on the ground. Mikasa bit her lip, running over the arrangement that she would have to use before nodding to herself. She stripped her jacket and scarf off, wrapping the latter around Shin for the moment.

Walking out of the forest wasn’t an option, especially with titans still in the area. They were bound to be attracted to the remains of the expedition, and Mikasa didn’t want to get caught on the ground. Besides, it would be impossible to wake Theron up unless Eren woke up as well. The only option left to her was the rescue harness that was strapped to the daemon.

Mikasa stared at the straps, letting out a slow breath. All of the trainees had been told how to use the harness, but Mikasa had never bothered with it herself. She could just strap Shin in for security and then let the serval hang onto her. The other complication was that it was  _Eren’s_  daemon and not her own. For all the years that they had been close, they had never touched each other daemons. Theron and Shin and curled up against each other once and a while, but that was the extent of their contact. Still, it was an emergency and it was far better to ask forgiveness than permission.

She knelt down on the ground, Shin wiggling out of the scarf and scurrying around so he could wedge himself between Theron and the ground. Mikasa worked her way through the straps, quickly forming the beginnings of the loops that she would use to attach the wolf to her own harness before connecting the strap that ran behind Theron’s legs. That would keep the hind end of the wolf in a sling and not restrict her own movement.

Mikasa reached back for the scarf, staring at it before wrapping it around over one shoulder and under the other, creating a sling. Wordlessly, Shin clambered into the sling, Mikasa taking a moment to secure her own daemon in place. Then she reached for Theron.

She winced as her fingers touched the wolf’s fur. Mikasa wasn’t sure if Eren or Theron would be able to feel the touch, but she felt slightly disgusted with herself. She swallowed and pushed the feeling away, ignoring it was the only way that she was going to get this done.

A hard push rocked Theron onto his hind end, Mikasa having to wrap her arms around the wolf to keep him from toppling backwards. With one hand, she fumbled through the top buckles of the harness, guiding Theron’s head to rest on one shoulder.

With the wolf secured, Mikasa stood up slowly, nearly falling forward under the weight. There was a squeak from behind her as Shin tried to balance her by throwing himself the opposite direction. It was enough to allow her to stand, Mikasa quickly finishing up with the final straps.

Shin bounded up her back again, her jacket and cape in his mouth. Mikasa stared at them for a moment before slinging both on, feeling slightly ridiculous. Shin would be hidden under both of them, but they only protected the top half of Theron. Still, it probably didn’t matter, she would be able to get them both out of the forest.

She took a deep breath and fired off her first hook, shouting in surprise as she was rocked forward faster than she expected. Mikasa gritted her teeth and leaned back, trying to adjust to the new weight on her. It took a few more releases and fires for her to get used to the way that she would have to move with Theron, but there were times that she forgot and found herself swinging dangerously forward.

Mikasa grunted with the effort of hauling herself upright again, looking up just in time to push off a tree and avoid Levi. The corporal still held Eren, her brother still dripping with the titan’s saliva. She reached out under the urge to wipe it away from his face only to have Levi yank Eren away from her.

“What did you think you were doing?”

It took her a moment to compose her face into the proper neutral expression. “You forgot his daemon,  _sir_.”

The emphasis on Levi’s title brought his daemon out, Hawisia scurrying out from under his sleeve and chattering at her. On her back, Mikasa felt Shin shift, probably trying to come out from the layers to challenge the rat. But he never got the chance.

Levi shot a glare at his daemon, the two staring at each other for a moment before Hawisia huffed and shuffled her way back up Levi’s sleeve. The rat disappeared into the pocket, Levi giving the pocket a quick pat before jerking his head to the right. “They’re heading out.”

Mikasa gave him a nod, remaining braced against the tree until Levi snorted and took the lead. It was only after he was gone that Mikasa began to carefully make her way after him. Moving around with Theron was hard work, even with Shin shifting around on her back to try and balance her out. Getting the wolf to a cart would be a welcome relief.

Until then, she had to keep going and keep close to Levi, for Eren’s sake.

She looked up at where Eren was pressed against Levi’s side, narrowing her eyes.

And, until they got back to Karanese, she wasn’t going to let Eren out of her sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Mikasa – Shin (Serval)](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/70/Leptailurus_serval_-Serengeti_National_Park,_Tanzania-8.jpg)
> 
> [Levi – Hawisia (rat)](http://theratcave.yolasite.com/resources/mink.png)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While the backstory of the characters is taken from the anime and manga, there isn’t really much of it for these characters. I’ve added in a bit of my own headcanon to each of them to fill these little snippets out. Also, spoilers for the manga.

From the beginning, Historia hoped that she could get her family to love her. She knew that her mother did, or she remembered that kind of love. It had come with soft touches to her hair before bed and a daemon that would watch over her own. What her father did to show his love was different, but it was still there. She had learned to look for it in little ways, and that made her feel far better, because it meant that she was smart enough to see it.

It was in the way that his cardinal daemon fluffed its feathers out, almost like the way the corners of her father’s eyes would wrinkle when he was really happy. Or the way that her father would let his hand linger an extra second on her shoulder, or brush it across the top of her head like it had been an accident. Or the way that the cardinal would tap a wing against Gwenaël in a brief form of a hug. None of it was grand, nothing like what her mother would do, but it was something.

And it was all that she got.

From the rest of her family she got nothing but glares and obvious disdain. Even their daemons hissed at Gwenaël no matter what form he took. Historia took to keeping him in her arms, Gwenaël helping by keeping his form small.

Gwenaël was the one to suggest that he try different forms to try and impress the rest of their family and friends, that maybe they just didn’t know the two of them as well. He mimicked the forms of their relatives daemons’ first, all the strong daemons. Historia had been proud of him, until the hissing had gotten worse and her aunt’s daemon had nearly choked them both by dragging Gwenaël from the room. Historia had been reluctant to let him out of her sight after that.

Instead, he had taken to keeping small and cute. Little things with large eyes that he would turn on their relatives in the hopes that they would stop the whispers that they both knew were going on. It was harder not to hear them now. About how they were both weak. About how they were both wrong. About how they should both be dead.

It was when that last whisper came up that Gwenaël started trying desperately to be something that would impress them. For months, Historia never saw Gwenaël in the same form for over an hour. Her daemon flitted through everything he could shift into, learning how to do impressive forms only to be slapped down by a relative.

Big canines and felines were too aggressive for a young lady like herself, only suitable for the military. Brightly colored birds were something more fitting for whores and women seeking attention. Historia thought that her family was the least surprised with the bright birds.

Small animals were a disappointment, lacking in any real power or personality. Reptiles and insects were too cool and calculating. Mythical creatures or extinct animals were too strange, and just proved that something was wrong with the both of them.

Gwenaël ran himself ragged trying to prove that he was exactly what they wanted. Historia tried her best to back up the statement that her daemon was making.

But in the end, they just weren’t good enough.

She couldn’t remember whose idea it was to leave, but they did and quickly. Historia didn’t bother to say goodbye to her mother and father, because she was sure that they would just try and get her to stay. She didn’t want to, not when her relatives wanted her to die because she couldn’t prove to them that she was worth something. She didn’t want to watch Gwenaël kill himself trying to show that they were worth something to people who wouldn’t listen. So she would just have to show them all with a move that she knew that her family would recognize.

While they scorned the military, they also spoke about the Military Police with respect. But it was the Scouting Legion that was spoken of in awe. Awe would give her what she wanted, the kind of achievements that her family couldn’t ignore.

For that, her family got their wish. By the time that Christa Reiss joined the military, Historia was dead.

Unfortunately, Historia wasn’t dead enough for Christa’s sake. Gwenaël still changed frequently, adjusting to the others in their class. He would be a hawk to play with the daemons that could fly and then a dog within the hour to romp with the others. He kept it up much like Christa tried to be good to everyone. Maybe, if she was just good enough then her fellow recruits would like her.

Maybe they wouldn’t wish her dead like the rest of the world.

It was still worrying when Gwenaël finally settled, Christa spending the day clutching her daemon to her. It wasn’t that Gwenaël was worried about the others, it was that he was just so relieved. Now the burden of trying to impress people with his different forms was gone. Now he could prove it to them all in one form. Christa wasn’t so sure herself, because Gwenaël was a rabbit, far different from the dogs and other fierce animals that the other daemons were. Then again, Gwenaël had teeth and claws that he could use just as well as any of the others, except that no one would expect it of him.

Maybe that was the best thing for both of them, to be constantly underestimated. Then, when they finally did prove themselves, everyone would be impressed.

* * *

Ymir walked the streets of the town with Katell draped over her shoulders. The weight was strange, especially after getting used to Katell being small birds and mice. Both of those were better for acting as the look out, like Katell had been all those years before. At least, until Ymir had stolen from that one village outside of the walls. She reached up to rest her hand on the daemon, mentally reminding herself that the fur under her hand was striped instead of something different.

Katell was different.

It was why they were roaming the streets of a small town instead of heading for a big city, their usual ploy would need adjusting and Ymir didn’t like the look of the guards that roamed the town. Inside of the walls was far different from the outside, and she didn’t want to chance prison. The food would be good, but she wasn’t sure if it would be worth it. Besides, she would miss more time, an idea that made her want to clutch at Katell.

She had already missed her daemon settling, Ymir lost to the mind of a titan while Katell had been dormant. All the while her daemon had been tucked quietly beneath her body, protected from any damage to the titan. Katell had gone in as a bird and come out as a civet. In that moment, Ymir had thought of abandoning her own daemon. But Katell was still herself, the same single companion that Ymir had had all of her life.

And, if she did abandon Katell and manage to stretch the bond between them to the point where she couldn’t feel the pain, then Ymir knew that she would starve. With her daemon, she blended in completely. Even if her clothes were ragged and she reeked, she was no different from the rest of the refugees that were flooding into Wall Rose. Without Katell, she would be noticed quickly and taken away.

Ymir had seen it herself on her second day in the town. A refugee from Wall Maria had stumbled in, ranting about titans and clutching at a bag. His daemon had never appeared, which had prompted the citizens to call the military in. A search had confirmed that his daemon wasn’t with him and the man had been taken away. The military had just said that they would put him in a safe place until his daemon caught up, but Ymir had known better. She had seen the way that the villagers had been looking at each other, and the way that the soldiers had been holding the man. It wouldn’t matter if his daemon came or not, the man would never get to see her again.

So Katell had to stay, for more reasons that Ymir’s attachment to her. Besides, there were already some advantages to having Katell in a settled form. For one, she was large enough that Ymir didn’t need a scarf. Katell could tuck herself around Ymir’s neck and they would both be able to stay warm. For another, Katell was in a form that was fierce enough to keep them alive.

A pair of refugee kids had tried to steal her dinner earlier, and Katell had attack their small daemons with a ferocity that Ymir had forgotten her daemon possessed. The kids had run away screaming, leaving them both enough time to collect the food and sneak off to another place.

Katell was still good at squeezing in places, and it had been her exploring that had found the church that Ymir was heading to. It was a Wall Cult church, but Ymir didn’t care. It was out of the wind and warm, which was all that mattered. Besides, no one came into the churches after a certain time and it was easy enough to sneak in and out. Ymir had never been a heavy sleeper anyway. The arrangement had worked out for the past few days, and Ymir was ready to let it continue. There was only so much more they could do in a small town.

She slipped in through the side door, lingering in the back before finding an empty pew. She knelt, mimicking the faithful at their prayers. Her knees would hurt after a while, but it was well worth the price of being able to stay somewhere warm.

Around her neck, Katell shifted positions so that she could whisper into Ymir’s ear without being overheard.

“We should push onward tomorrow, people are starting to stare.” Ymir just tipped her head closer, the only acknowledgment that Katell needed. The civet shifted closer, nosing against her ear. “We shouldn’t go to a small town again, news might travel.”

“Then where?” The words were spoken in a whisper and could almost be mistaken for a prayer.

“One of the cities. We’ll find a map or just choose a direction and walk. Follow the roads.”

Ymir couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. It was the advice that they had tossed between the two of them when they had been outside of the walls. It was almost enough to set her at ease again. This was Katell, the same part of her soul that had stood by her side since she had been born.

All she had to do was not picture a small bird or mouse whispering those words to her when she turned her head. That was getting easier as well.

“Tomorrow.” She pressed her lips against her folded hands, feeling Katell settle against her neck again. “Tomorrow we’ll choose a road.”

* * *

Fritjof had never been anything but a dog, and Sasha had never expected him to be anything different. Almost everyone’s daemon in Dauper was some kind of dog. There were a few exceptions, but no one talked about them, like it was a mark of failure. In some of Sasha’s less secure moments, she had been scared that Fritjof would end up like those daemons, but she ignored the feeling for the most part.

He had rambled through the village with her when she was young, usually mimicking the form of her father’s English Setter or her mother’s Retriever. Until they had been allowed to go with the hunters, Fritjof had kept to familiar forms, the ones that he saw around her and they had played as hunters. It didn’t matter that Fritjof was often the wrong dog for the job, it was fun carefully stalking after someone on their duties in the village before Fritjof would pounce on their daemon. And then they would run, Sasha and Fritjof laughing as they raced back to the safety that their house and mother represented.

When their father had taken them out on their first hunt when Sasha had been seven, Fritjof had gone as a Basset Hound, following after the older kids. Until they were proficient in their weapons, the kids helped track the prey and then got out of the way. Most of the time, they were sent to find the snares. Sasha’s father never told them where the snares were, using the chore to have them practice tracking scents. Fritjof had loved the challenge, Sasha trotting along after him with her small bow at the ready.

They were far from the best at the job, but they were the ones that would stay out the longest to find every snare that had been set that day. That was something their father was pleased with, Shasha enjoying the way that he would ruffle her hair and the way that her father’s daemon would bump up against Fritjof.

Mastering the bow to meet her father’s standards was a bit harder and something that Fritjof couldn’t help her with. Still, he sat by her side and raced to retrieve the arrows when she ran out. And he was by her side with his chest puffed out as she hit the bullseye. From then on, they had been able to hunt with the others and Fritjof had abandoned the dog forms that didn’t let him run.

There were many times on a hunt that Fritjof would race ahead of them to snap at the heels of a deer, or jump over the animal to get it to spook. Their father always cursed when Fritjof did it, but Sasha laughed. They were having fun doing what they did best. Or second best.

What they did best was sneaking food. When the winter came in and there was too little to eat, Sasha and Fritjof always had a store ready. If they didn’t, they would have stuffed themselves the day before. That way, they could stay warm and keep moving while everyone else slowed down. No one in her family was going to starve on their watch.

And, when Fritjof finally settled, he was a hunting dog just like the rest of the village. It was a mark of her skill, a visible sign that she belonged with them. Fritjof trotted by her side as a foxhound, only darting ahead when the signal was given. Of course, it was just as likely that Fritjof would rush back to where the packs where the food was stored. It was better to be prepared, especially when there was no telling when they would stop for lunch.

They were well suited for life in the village, at least until Dauper changed completely.

If they were all farmers, then what use was a foxhound? There would still be hunting for food, but it wouldn’t be as important. There would also be new people, people who didn’t know how the village worked. Everything would change completely and her father was going to let it happen. The worst thing was that he wouldn’t listen to her or her Fritjof. Even their parents’ daemons agreed.

It was a change for the better, or so said everyone else, but Sasha didn’t believe it. Fritjof had tried to reason with her, but he hadn’t been able to do much, especially since he agreed with her. They had both valued the lifestyle that they had been raised in, far too much to just throw it away, even if it was for convenience. The world was changing, Sasha could understand that. But she couldn’t understand why everything had to change completely. She and Fritjof had found what they were good at, and it wasn’t fair that everything had to be taken away.

But nothing could get her father to see her point, and the arguments were dragging on not only her family but the village also. Packs wouldn’t work with conflict, so the best thing to do would be to remove the source of the conflict.

It took the two of them an afternoon to pack, using the free time they had after coming back from collecting the snares. It took them even less time to leave Dauper behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Christa (Historia) – Gwenaël (rabbit)](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/4f/Wild_rabbit_us.jpg)
> 
> [Ymir – Katell (Malagasy Civet)](http://media.web.britannica.com/eb-media/46/101746-050-C8E61F5C.jpg)
> 
> [Sasha – Fritjof (American Foxhound)](http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/images16/AmericanFoxhoundPrincess1YearOld.JPG)


	7. Chapter 7

Marco landed unsteadily on the roof, rocking forward a bit under Aranka’s weight. His daemon pushed back, righting the both of them as Marco stumbled forward.

She lifted her head to peer over his shoulder, huffing and resting her chin there. “I want to get down.”

“I know, but we’re moving.”

“Slowly.”

“Aranka.”

She bumped her muzzle against his jaw, not an apology but an acknowledgement of his tone. “We’re moving slowly. I can run on the streets and call them out to you.”

“And then dodge all the titans when we climb the wall again?”

“We’ll find a new place to climb. Besides, Rakel is down there.”

“And Connie is worried sick.” He rested a hand on her back as he looked around. It would be easier to just let Aranka down on the street level and have her run. He would be able to move as he needed to then. But he didn’t like the idea of her vulnerable on the ground, no matter how many times he had been told that it was perfect safe for daemons. Marco didn’t know how Connie managed knowing that Rakel was stuck on the street level and that he would always have to wait for her to catch up. He wouldn’t even get a warning if she died, Connie would just keel over between one moment and the next.

Marco shivered and hugged Aranka tighter, feeling her lick his cheek. He couldn’t let her down, not what the gate was still open.

Eren would close the gate soon, and then they could climb the wall. When he was sure that she was safe there, he would put her down and attack from the wall. After watching so many of their comrades die and having to fly through the golden dust that was their daemons, Marco didn’t want to risk Aranka. He would keep her close until he was sure that they were safe.

He checked the buckles on her harness, making sure they were secure before stepping towards the top of the roof. Marco wanted to make sure of Eren’s progress. From his perch, he could see the top of the boulder a few streets over.

Marco breathed a sigh of relief before doing a quick scan for the others that he had followed out. He had seen Jean briefly before, off to his right and heading off to where Maike was calling. Rakel he had seen before he had landed, probably charging off in the direction that Connie had last been seen. But he hadn’t seen Annie since they had all pushed off of the wall.

He frowned, tempted to as Aranke to search her out. But it would have been useless anyway. Trost smelled too much like the steam from decomposing titans, dead bodies and smoke. The air would have to clear up before Aranke could sniff anyone out, something that they didn’t have time for. There were titans to kill and a better chance of seeing Annie while they were on the move.

Marco patted Aranka’s back one last time before rocking back onto his heels, ready to start moving again. “Hang on.”

Aranka nodded, Marco feeling the pressure against his face. Then, abruptly, she began pushing at his chest with her paws, whimpering his name. “Marco. Marco, turn around. Turn around!”

He spun around, swords raised and at the ready. But the titan was already too close, looming over them. Marco felt his hands shake as he stared up at the creature, absently wondering how it had managed to sneak up so close behind him. Then again, there was a lot of noise between the earth shaking steps of the titans and the sounds that they made. Aranka had been able to speak without shouting only because she was close to him.

He could feel Aranka pawing at him, probably shouting at him to move in her panic. But they couldn’t, they were too close to just use their 3DM gear to get away. At this range, a titan could easily grab them. Marco would just have to wait for the titan to move and dodge, but that wasn’t a viable option either, because he would be moving far too slow. He glanced at the titan and made a split second decision.

Marco turned and ran, heading for the end of the roof. If he could get ahead of the titan, then they could swing to safety or come back around to kill the titan if Marco planted his hooks right.

As he ran, he could hear Aranka whimpering in his ear, trying to curl up closer to him and reduce her size. She couldn’t shift anymore, something that Marco suddenly found himself missing much more. But she could run faster than him, and Marco was confident that he could keep a hold on her rescue harness long enough to let her down on the ground.

He reached up with one hand to fumble with the straps that kept her buckled against him. Aranka yelped a protest, but Marco ignored it. If they both freed themselves, then they could get away.

“Stop moving!” Aranka froze at the order, Marco breathing a sigh of relief when the last strap came undone.

Aranka fell to the roof, Marco ignoring the sharp flare of pain on his shoulder as his daemon rolled to her feet. As soon as she had gained them, she was off, racing for the end of the roof. Marco knew that she would wait for him there, probably plotting out a route for him. He took a better hold of his swords, sprinting after her.

He only managed two steps before he was lifted from the roof. Marco screamed, squirming in the titan’s grip as he stared down at his daemon. He could hear Aranka shouting for him, jumping as high as she could to snap at the titan. But that didn’t distract the creature.

Marco twisted in the titan’s grip, panting for breath. He had to get his swords free so he could stab at the hand holding him. That would be enough to free him, and then he would worry about getting away, getting to a place where he could stop shaking and get a hold of himself again. Somewhere he could clutch Aranka close and reassure himself that they were both breathing.

He grunted, getting his right arm free and making a shallow cut in the titan’s hand. It wasn’t enough to get him dropped. Marco twisted in the titan’s grip, aiming for a slash down along the thumb that was across the front of his body when he was tipped backwards. He lost his grip on his sword, Marco fumbling for the line that kept it attached to the rest of his gear. Marco wrapped his fingers around the line, trying to pull the sword back into his hand.

But he was too slow.

The titan had raised him to its mouth, Marco staring at a set of teeth that were above him. He felt the hilt of the sword in his hand, but he couldn’t move, not when the inevitable was staring him in the face. Whatever he did, he would be moving too slow

Marco let the sword drop from his right hand, tipping his head so he could look over at Aranka. He got a glimpse of his daemon rocking up on her hind legs.

Then the titan bit down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Marco - Aranka (Pharaoh Hound)](http://www.kelb-tal-fenek.de/Website-Grafiken/pharaoh-hound.jpg)
> 
> [Jean - Maike (Gyrfalcon)](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5sopixDCH1rv4l4do1_400.jpg)
> 
> [Connie – Rakel (Pronghorn)](http://www.prairiewildlife.net/images/KarvalAreaRanches/RNSkarval9319.jpg)


	8. Chapter 8

Days with the Recon Corps weren’t bad, save for those when they were outside of the walls and riding for their lives. But even those Jean could handle. Even when they were hauling bodies of their comrades back to the carts or swinging in front of titans, aware that any move could be their last; those Jean could handle.

What he couldn’t quite handle, wasn’t ready to deal with, were the days when he noticed. When he would go to look at his daemon and get thrown off by the sight of Maike snuggled up next to Zrinka.

Because it wasn’t supposed to be a black raven there. It was supposed to be a lanky hound that always had her mouth open in her version of a smile.

It was supposed to be Aranka.

Jean couldn’t explain the visceral reaction to the sight of Zrinka on those days. Nor could he stand the way that Maike would shoot him a look like he had betrayed her, because it wasn’t like he wanted to think about these things. It wasn’t like he wanted to look at Armin and have the horrible, gut churning reaction that he wasn’t Marco. Because that wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t like Jean was trying to compare Armin to Marco, they were just too different to try. They both had the same kindness, the same quietness, but there was something underneath all of that. Marco had been steady and calm while Armin had a bit of nervous energy, a bit of hesitation where Marco would have pushed forward. Then again, Armin was able to do things that Marco would have never done.

So it was impossible to equate one to the other; all that Armin was didn’t equal Marco and vice versa.

But, even realizing that, Jean felt like he was sometimes trying to push Armin into the hole that Marco had left in his life and it unsettled him.

The days he noticed were nothing like that. Those days were the ones where he had let himself relax enough not to over think what he was doing when chose to seek out Armin’s company over everyone else’s. The ones that he forgot and let himself just drift on the feelings of trust and companionship that came to him from Maike. And that’s usually what made him forget that it wasn’t Aranka that Maike was pressed again, because the feeling felt the same. And that was just unfair.

Jean wanted to collect all of the parts of him that were dedicated to Marco, all the thoughts and feelings, and keep them separate from everything else. To keep them from just fading away with time. He was desperate to keep them from disappearing, because Jean had been sure that he and Marco had been on the cusp of something.

Maybe if they had had more time Jean wouldn’t feel like he had to cling to what little he had left of Marco.

And maybe if they hadn’t gotten so close to something, he wouldn’t be having trouble with his growing closeness with Armin either.

But the world didn’t work the way that Jean desperately wanted it to. It if had, Marco and Aranka would have still been alive, because Jean couldn’t bring himself to dismiss the presence of his best friend. If it had, Jean was almost sure that it would have been worse, especially if whatever was going on with Armin was inevitable, because then he would have never been able to choose.

The days that he noticed were worse because, usually, on the day after he would lose control of his carefully cornered grief. Those days he would feel like something was weighing him down, that he could barely breathe past the realization that Marco was gone and there was nothing he could do about. That he had led recruits,  _his friends_ , to their deaths and then used them to stay alive. That something had gone horribly wrong because they were all gone and Jean had survived.

Those days he would lash out at Maike and send her scurrying for the comfort of Zrinka because he couldn’t stand the sight of her. Couldn’t stand the fact that she had settled the way that she had instead of something different, something stronger, something better because it meant that he was just was weak as he had always feared. It just proved that he had been in no position to be leading those people and their deaths were his fault. Couldn’t stand the fact that, just before graduation, before Trost, Marco had looked at Maike and called her beautiful. Had reached out like he was about to touch her and Jean had  _known_  that he would have let him.

Those days he wished that people could see the blood on his hands, that the blood would have actually stained him so they all knew that he wasn’t someone to trust.

Those were the days that Armin would usually run interference for him and Eren, when the idiot wasn’t busy with Corporal Levi and his new squad, and sit next to Jean. Then Jean would calm down, soothed by Armin’s presence much like Maike was soothed by Zrinka gently settling the gyrfalcon’s ruffled feathers.

Those were the nights that Jean would dig out the bit of bone that he had taken and let it sit on his hand. Maike would come back to him then, sitting on the tips of his fingers and whispering to the piece of bone. Jean tried not to pay attention to it, not wanting to hear her talk to Marco and Aranka like they were still there. Because that made it hurt all the more.

Then, when the next day came, they would be back to normal and Jean would try to ignore the way that Armin and Zrinka hovered closer to them. Because he was alright, he and Maike would be alright now that everything was slotted back into place. Everything would be alright until he noticed again, and opened up that yawning pit of fear that always seemed to be bubbling under the surface of him now.

Because, as much as he had been afraid of losing Marco, as much as he was afraid of dying himself, he was now just as equally as afraid of losing Armin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Jean - Maike (Gyrfalcon)](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5sopixDCH1rv4l4do1_400.jpg)  
>     
> [Armin – Zrinka (raven)](http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/PHOTO/LARGE/common_raven_glamor.jpg)
> 
> [Marco - Aranka (Pharaoh Hound) ](http://www.kelb-tal-fenek.de/Website-Grafiken/pharaoh-hound.jpg)


	9. Chapter 9

Being a part of the 104th Trainees Squad wasn’t as hard as Reiner had thought that it would be. He had probably spent too much time listening to Bertholdt and the scenarios that his friend came up with, because he went into training fearing the worst. They everyone would know who they were immediately, that people would find out quickly. That they would fail completely and have to find some other way to get what they needed.

It was the last one that had scared Reiner the most, because the plan had always been to go into the military and infiltrate the system from the inside. If they couldn’t do that, then he and Bertholdt would have to push through the system some other way, and that would be impossible with the background that they had set up for themselves.

People would have watched them far too carefully if they had come from the interior. No one in their right mind would escape from the safety of the interior, nor would they have daemons like Gabija and Viltautas. He and Bertholdt could lie all they wanted about their daemons, but both of them were just too wild looking, too much like the daemons of the children who had settled after the fall of Wall Maria to ever believe that they had come from the interior. Besides, Reiner was sure that he and Bertholdt wouldn’t even begin to know how to act like spoiled children from the interior. It was far easier to just let people believe that they were from a destroyed village in Wall Maria and that they were trying their best to ignore what their daemons had become to have some sense of normalcy. Reiner had seen plenty of children in Trost after Wall Maria had fallen, clutching their daemons and repeating that they were some other animal, something that wasn’t an outward indication of their trauma.

Gabija and Viltautas were different, they were learning to act like they weren’t fighters from the start. If anything, Reiner thought that the two of them could be mistaken for something like Sasha’s Fritjof. That they were both just used to hunting for survival, which would explain their small slip ups; like the moments when Gabija acted more like Theron than the other dogs or when Vilatautas would do something that was more like that big feline daemons that the cat that Bertholdt had registered him as. The slip ups didn’t matter in the end, because no one was looking. They were just two more kids that had lost their home and had joined the military to get a steady supply of food and a sense of security in the future.

Reiner found that all his fears eventually boiled down to two simple rules that he had to constantly remember. The first was that he had to hide the fact that he was already trained to fight, that he and Gabija had a life outside of Wall Maria. That he was a titan.

That was easy enough to remember, because it was easy enough to slip into his role of Reiner Braun from that small village that he could barely remember the name of. Easy to be Gaijba, who was a dog instead of a wolf. Easy to just let her play after years of having to hold her back from it. Of course, they wished that Bertholdt and Viltautas would join them more often, but Bertholdt didn’t make friends as easily as Reiner did and Viltautas preferred to keep his distance from everyone until Bertholdt was comfortable. So all he had to do was wait.

Then all they had to do was to avoid letting their injuries steam, and that was easy enough to cover by sneaking off or holding back the regeneration. It didn’t stop Gabija from worrying and licking at his small wounds, but Reiner didn’t mind. It was all for the mission and it was far easier than what Bertholdt and Viltautas would do, the two of them sneaking off just after dinner to heal. He was often still caught up in a conversation from dinner, or Gabija was busy talking to one of their fellow trainees’ daemon. After all, it was important to keep up appearances.

The second rule was harder to keep in mind, just because Reiner had been doing it for as long as he could remember and thought nothing of it.

When they had been walking to Wall Maria, it had been habit to just pick up Viltautas if the situation called for it. The titans would still come after them, whether they were humans or titans. They had been careful, but sometimes there had been close calls. When it was a life or death situation, neither of them could bother with the taboo of not touching another person’s daemon.

In any case, it was Bertholdt and it was Viltautas. Reiner had been playing with the both of them since they had been children. He couldn’t even remember the first time he had scooped up Viltautas or if he had ever apologized. He just knew that he had avoided touching Viltautas for a while until Bertholdt told him that it was alright. And he remembered that because it was one of the rare times that Bertholdt had actually told him what he wanted instead of just going along with the flow.

Now, it was the only way to get a reaction out of Bertholdt. Unfortunately it was usually panic, because Bertholdt didn’t want them to be seen being so close for reasons that Reiner couldn’t even imagine. Bertholdt’s protests didn’t make sense when Bertholdt would nearly shove Viltautas into his arms once they were in their bunks and the lights were out. And Reiner always took him without a protest, enjoying the chance to run his hands over the Bengal Cat’s fur and feel the brief surge of something like electricity up and down his arm. It was something like when Christa would speak to him, all nervous energy and a fast heartbeat. But he preferred holding Viltautas to Christa most of the time, because having that feeling associated with Bertholdt was familiar, it was safe. Christa was too new, too dangerous and far outside what he could expect for himself.

Bertholdt was his friend, his partner in this and Reiner wouldn’t change that for the world.

Gabija probably would have protested any change in their relationship too. Gwenaël was far too delicate for real rough play that Gabija enjoyed. Gwenaël couldn’t keep pace with Gabija, not like Viltautas could. Christa and Gwenaël were from a different world, one that Reiner was quickly finding himself enamored with.

Maybe when it was all over, and maybe if Ymir ever let Christa breathe for a moment. And maybe not, because then he wouldn’t be able keep Bertholdt close like this. They had been together for too long and Gabija wouldn’t let him just abandon Bertholdt and Viltautas. Reiner didn’t think he would have the stomach to.

He enjoyed the closeness with Bertholdt too much, enjoyed the fact that he could just scoop up Viltautas and the Bengal Cat would climb up to his shoulders and stay there. He enjoyed that Gabija could crawl over to Bertholdt’s bunk and curl up along his side; that Gabija could be wrapped up so completely when Bertholdt unwound enough to hug her close.

Reiner could never imagine something like that with Christa, not when his trust in Bertholdt was so complete.

He couldn’t imagine giving up Bertholdt’s easy companionship or the way that they would end up tangled together with their daemons at night. Between Bertholdt’s restless sleep habits and Gabija’s need to be in contact with the both of them the entire night, Reiner was used to waking up with the combined weight of Bertholdt and the wolf over him and Viltautas squeezed between them however he could manage it.

It was familiar. It was comfortable. And it was the only home that Reiner had had for years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Reiner – Gabija (Grey Wolf, but he says she's a Malamute)](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f5/Howlsnow.jpg)
> 
> [Bertholdt – Viltautas (Margay, but Bertl lies and says he's a Bengal Cat)](http://photos.zoochat.com/large/margay3-151264.jpg)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While the backstory of the characters is taken from the anime and manga, there isn’t really much of it for these characters. I’ve added in a bit of my own headcanon to each of them to fill these little snippets out.

Jean didn’t remember the first time he had seen a member of the Military Police, because it hadn’t influenced his decision to join them. He had wanted to go into the Military Police for the prestige, the safety.

He had spent far too long proving that he wasn’t a coward to the boys from Trost. None of them had believed that he would actually go into the military, not with the way that he and Maike kept coming to heel whenever their mother called. It was embarrassing enough that his mother tended to keep him close, he didn’t need the other boys teasing him about it.

At least he had one upped all of them. They had all been too scared to join the military, all of them going to the factories or the fields.

The only thing that the first Military Police member had done was inspire the two of them. The man had ridden by with an eagle on his shoulder. Jean had felt Maike suck in a quick breath before she had shifted. Then, no matter how he was teased or how many fights that he started, Jean would always walk away with his head held high and Maike perched as an eagle on his shoulder.

They would join the Military Police and Maike would be a glorious eagle, on one would convince him otherwise. Not the boys that said he was too much of a coward or his mother who wouldn’t leave him alone long enough to make his own choices.

In the end, it was Maike that he could turn to, because she was just as enthusiastic. The interior was everything that they wanted, everything that the merchants and soldiers talked about. It was far better than a town on Wall Rose. Far better than the streets that Jean would run down every day with Maike flying overhead. Far better than the boys who he would goad into an argument over the future, because there was none for him in Trost. He could go into business with his family or the friends of the family, something that Jean couldn’t bear. All of those jobs were sedate and boring. His mother had hauled him through a succession of uncles and friends to get him experience and he had always run out before the day was over.

It was the Military Police or nothing, even after Wall Maria fell.

In the midst of the panic that had followed the fall of the wall and the flood of refugees, Maike and settled. After hearing his classmate’s stories about how their daemons settled and seeing the hollow eyed refugees himself, Maike’s settling was completely sedate.

She had flashed through a few forms quickly over a month before rotating between two. One was her favorite eagle form and the other was a smaller gyrfalcon. Jean had waited with baited breath, waiting for Maike to stay as the eagle and affirm everything that he had always believed.

Instead, he woke up one morning to Maike as a gyrfalcon and a sense of permanence. That morning hadn’t been the first time that Jean had yelled at his daemon, but it had been the first time that he and Maike had had an argument that lasted over a few hours. Maike had spent the week hiding in the rafters of whatever room that Jean was in, at the furthest edge of their bond. There were many times that Jean thought that she was going to sleep out in the hallway, and tempted to let her. Because they had spend their childhood bragging about how they would get into the Military Police. Because her being a gyrfalcon meant that something was wrong with the both of them, because they had both been so sure of themselves before.

And it was all made worse by the fact that it wasn’t Maike’s fault, but they had dragged the silence on far too long to just apologize easily.

So they just ignored each other until one of them forgot. Jean wasn’t sure who took the first step, but he knew that Maike started sleeping at the top of his bed just about the same time that Jean made the effort to lessen the distance between them.

The mend came at the right time, because their friends were slowly starting to drift away, either away from Trost in search of work or to their own jobs. They still spent time with each other, but it was less and less. Soon, it was just Jean and Maike counting down the days until they could enlist in the military, because that was far easier than counting down the days until they could join the Military Police.

* * *

With three younger siblings, Aranka had always shifted into fast animals. It was easier for her to run after their brother and sisters’ daemons and snatch them up when they started to wander too far. Marco tried to make her job easier by keeping a firm hold on his siblings, keeping them close to him whenever his mother asked him to go out, which was often. With his father off at work and his mother taking care of the house, it often fell to Marco to watch out for his brother and sisters.

It didn’t matter that all of Jinae probably knew them by sight and would send any escapees back to the Bodt house. Marco wanted to keep close tabs on them, because it was his responsibility. His mother trusted him enough with the job and it made he and Aranka proud.

It was like the times that their father would bring them into his work to watch. Sometimes, he would let Marco try his hand at woodcarving, even though Marco wasn’t the best at it. His father kept telling him not to worry about it, that it would come with practice.

Marco wanted to do well, but he also wanted to join the military. He and Aranka would take their siblings with them to the fields outside of town to play, and they would always end up acting out some fake battle. Vera always insisted, and Marco couldn’t bring himself to deny her, especially when her daemon and Aranka started running around the edges of the field, pretending to signal where the titans were coming from. It was exciting, playing the role of a hero.

It was even better when they ran into one of the retired members of the Stationary Guard in town. Aranka would always curl up close to the man’s wolfhound daemon and listen to the stories the old soldier would tell. Marco and Vera would always sit and listen with their full attention. Nicolas and Irena never seemed comfortable with the stories, Nicolas because he thought that fighting titans was too scary and Irena because she honestly didn’t care.

Marco and Aranka almost wished that they cared, because he could think of no greater honor that to serve the king to protect people. When they talked about it to their mother and father, their parents agreed with the both of them.

Besides, it felt good when the old soldier would smile and salute him back whenever Marco executed a perfect salute. When that happened, Aranka would be at his side in the form of a dog, standing at attention. Then the soldier would ruffle his hair and remind him that all he had to do was to be strong and loyal, and he would do well.

It was why he was relieved when Aranka settled as a dog. There was no better kind of daemon according to the old soldier. Even better that she was a Pharaoh Hound, light and quick. She could still chase after their three siblings, outstripping them easily now. And, at night, Aranka would snuggle up to him, making up for the warmth that he was missing now that he had been moved into his own room in the house. She was big enough to fit along his side, just like Nicolas had when they had shared the nursery.

And, when he was finally old enough to enlist in the military, she looked great standing beside him. With Aranka beside him, her fur shining like gold, he felt like a soldier.

* * *

Rakel had never been a problem for Connie, not like some of the stories he heard from his fellow recruits. In those first few days, they spend most of their time talking among each other, trying to make alliances that would help them over the next three years. Connie heard plenty of stories about disagreements between recruits and their daemons, all of the stories making him want to laugh.

Rakel had been nothing but steady for him, nothing less than his partner in everything. Ragako had learned to fear the two of them between all the pranks that they had pulled. And it had been an equally as common sight for him to be dragged back by his mother with Rakel being carried by her daemon. But multiple captures and punishments hadn’t been enough to stop them from running through Ragako, their own little kingdom.

The military was another thing entirely.

In Ragako, Rakel had been able to really stretch out when she had finally settled as a Pronghorn. The training grounds were different.

There were so many people and daemons around, a mixing of a couple of other squads with their own class. Connie often had to wait for Rakel as his daemon wove her way through the crowd, a new experience for him. Usually, he was the one chasing after Rakel. In the bunks, he had spent two days in an extended argument over a bottom bunk, which was finally settled when Samuel tired of having Rakel jump from the edge of his bed to get up to the middle bunk that Connie had originally been assigned and down again in the morning.

Aside from Connie’s idiotic slip ups, training was easy enough for them. Running was Rakel’s specialty and Connie enjoyed racing the other trainees when there was someone in the mood for them. Martial arts was easy enough too, although it often devolved into Rakel and Fritjof wrestling on the ground while Connie and Sasha attempted to pull off elaborate moves that only worked about half the time. And, when it came to the raids that all the 104th participated in, they were the best. Everyone in the squad knew that they just had to pass the food onto Connie and he would strap it to Rakel. Once it was there, no one was going to get the food until Connie took their spoils back from her.

Those were the things that went right for them.

It was the training with the 3DM gear that defeated them completely.

All trainees were required to use a rescue harness for their daemon if the daemon wasn’t capable of flight, which meant everyone except for Armin and Jean. But everyone had a smaller daemon that he did; only Gabija and Theron came close to Rakel’s size.

Connie spent days after training searching for a harness that would fit on Rakel and then cobbling together one out of broken pieces of harness, 3DM gear and spare parts. Christa and Sasha had pitched in to help at times, and it was certainly better than nothing. Certainly enough to keep Keith from yelling at him every morning, but it didn’t solve everything.

Even Eren and Reiner could strap their daemons to their chests. It slowed them down considerably, but they could get Theron and Gabija off the ground. Connie couldn’t even hold Rakel outside of their training, not even after trying to build up muscle. She was just too big for him to use the harness.

To their surprise, Keith let their failure go without his usual aggression. Instead, he said that Rakel would have to remain on the ground for any of their missions and keep up with Connie. The announcement had had Connie clinging to Rakel all through the night, shaking at the thought of having his daemon any distance from him. The titans wouldn’t bother her, but that wasn’t his main worry. It was that she wouldn’t be able to keep pace with him while he was using the gear, that he would reach the end of the bond and cause her pain. Or, worse, it would break entirely.

The bond breaking completely was something that had never happened, but Connie still worried about it. There were people out there, people wandering after the fall of Wall Maria, that had been separated from their daemons. They had seen those people wandering through Ragako during the days after Wall Maria fell. Connie remembered that they had looked like ghosts, barely like humans. He didn’t want to become like them and he didn’t want to lose Rakel.

Connie could only hope that he would do well enough to get into the top ten of the class. The Military Police didn’t use the 3DM as much as the other branches of the military. If he could get into the interior, then he wouldn’t have to worry about leaving Rakel behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Jean - Maike (Gyrfalcon)](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5sopixDCH1rv4l4do1_400.jpg)
> 
> [Marco - Aranka (Pharaoh Hound)](http://www.kelb-tal-fenek.de/Website-Grafiken/pharaoh-hound.jpg)
> 
> [Connie – Rakel (Pronghorn)](http://www.prairiewildlife.net/images/KarvalAreaRanches/RNSkarval9319.jpg)


	11. Chapter 11

Being a part of Corporal Levi’s squad was different from what they had been expecting.

The _squad_ was different from what they had been expecting.

Eren and Theron had watched the Scouting Legion leave through the gates of Shinganshina before, Eren standing on whatever he could to see over the crowd or relying on the narrative that Theron relayed from the roof of the nearest building. Between the two of them, they had talked endlessly about the squads, the best fighters and had mourned when their heroes hadn’t come back. But they had always been that, heroes. Now they were all real people. And real people were stranger to deal with.

Eren looked up from where he was working on cleaning tack, marking where Theron was out of habit before glancing around at the members of the Special Operations Squad that were arrayed around the courtyard. All of them had something that they were doing, busy work like him, but Eren knew better. They were all watching over him while Corporal Levi was out, probably a meeting back at Trost. It didn’t matter that each member of the squad was focused on their tasks, their daemons were keeping watch on them. Just like Theron was watching them.

The wolf was sprawled out in the sun, looking deceptively peaceful. He was even mimicking the position of Erd’s daemon, but Eren could see Theron’s ear flick every once and a while. He was paying attention to everything that was going on, probably on the look out for another beating.

Theron had apologized for not being able to get to Eren at the trial, something that Eren forgave him for. The guards had made him chain Theron up a good distance away from him before he had been secured. His daemon had only been able to snarl and strain at the chain while Corporal Levi had proved a point to the assembled people. Even though Eren had repeated that it had been a bid by the Scouting Legion to save him, Theron was watching the others carefully.

The Scouting Legion was still military, and Theron was probably waiting for the roughhousing that had started among the recruits in their first week of training to establish some kind of social order. The only ranks imposed on them were Corporal Levi’s and then Erd, who the corporal kept leaving in charge while he was gone. By the way that Theron was eyeing Ragna, the wolf was spoiling for a fight. But Eren was sure that Theron wouldn’t get one, because both Erd and his daemon were too laid back for such a thing. It made him miss Reiner and Marco, their daemons had always been ready to wrestle with Theron when he and Eren were feeling on edge.

The daemons of the Special Operations Squad were completely different from the ones that he was used to. Eren was used to the daemons of recruits, ones that would always be up for some kind of play to work off stress or to have a bit of revenge for a trick pulled during training. None of the daemons would do that now, they were all too used to military restraint and Eren couldn’t see how most of them would even play with Theron. He rarely saw Corporal Levi’s daemon and Petra and Auruo both had bird daemons. Having Theron leaping up at those two would look like he was trying to attack them. Erd and Gunter both had dog daemons, but they seemed more content to lay out in the sun and rest when they weren’t frantically trying to get the old castle up to the corporal’s standards.

On the ground, Theron yawned and rolled onto his back, presenting his stomach to Eren. It was probably a ploy to try and get the squad’s daemons to stop glaring at them. Eren sighed and leaned forward, scratching as Theron’s belly and getting an overly enthusiastic tail wag. Theron was just probably trying to act the part of something harmless, something that wasn’t a danger. But it only got the squad’s daemons to tense up.

Eren swallowed and pulled his hand away, ducking his head and going back to scrubbing at the leather of the saddle he was working on. He didn’t know what exactly would set the squad off, or what he could do to get them to calm down other than not turning into a titan. And he was trying his hardest not to do that. Every move that he made was calculated, everything he did thought over carefully. Eren already knew one way of turning into a titan, but what if there was other way. His memory was faulty already and he just  _knew_ things. Both of those scared him more than the could say, because there was no guarantee that he knew everything.

He stopped cleaning the saddle, staring down at Theron. His daemon whined and rolled over to his other side, staring up at him.

Theron was helping in his way, watching Eren just and intently as the rest of the squad was. And he had an edge over everyone else in the squad. Through their bond, he could feel anything that Eren was feeling. If there was another trigger than biting his hand, then Theron would be the first one to figure it out. But what Theron would be able to do about it was something that they would figure out later. Eren still wasn’t sure what happened to Theron when he transformed. He had only shifted twice, one with Theron close to him and once with Theron stuck outside of the titan that had eaten him. There wasn’t enough information for him to use in both of those cases.

“Hey Eren.” He jumped at the sound of his name, surprised to see Petra standing beside him. He tipped his head back to look at her, briefly glancing at where Erhard sat on her shoulder. The Snow Petral bobbed his head at Eren before looking over to where Theron was lying by Eren’s feet. Petra didn’t seem to notice the short exchange, stretching one arm over her head. “I’m starving. Think we’ve done enough to have a break for lunch?”

He didn’t need to look back at the pile of clean saddles and bridles that were waiting for Gunter’s attention to put them back together. Eren was sure that he had gone through at least half of the tack that had been left at the castle in storage. “Yes.”

“Oh? The kid finally spoke up.” Gunter laughed and finished up the buckles on the bridle he was putting back together. “I though that he was under some kind of spell over there.”

Gunter’s daemon laughed and stretched. “The corporal’s cleaning spell.”

“That’s it!” Gunter patted her hindquarters, the two of them laughing. “Petra, go get us something.”

Petra crossed her arms and shook her head. “No way. I’m not here to run errands for you.”

“Fine, fine.” Gunter gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Send Auruo.”

“What?!” Auruo finally paid attention to the conversation, Eren having to lean out around Petra to see the other man. Auruo’s daemon was puffed up on his shoulder, her feathers bright against the brown of his uniform jacket. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the youngest and the one that we don’t have to keep on eye on.”

Auruo’s daemon squawked a protest, but didn’t offer a rebuttal. Neither did Auruo, the man just huffing and tossing the harness that he had been working on to Petra before storming back to the castle.

Petra fumbled the catch, Erhard the one to snatch the harness for her. She took the harness from her daemon, laughing as she straightened out the leather straps.

Eren looked between the three members of the squad, aware of how Theron leaned out to watch as Auruo disappeared into the castle. “I uh…”

He jumped as Petra patted his head, surprised at the open affection that she was showing him. Eren stared up at her, expecting Erhard to be glaring at him. But the Snow Petral had settled down on Petra’s shoulder, preening the feathers of one wing. Petra ruffled his hair, Eren leaning into the brief touch before he could stop himself.

“Don’t worry, Eren, he won’t be mad at us for long. He’ll just be giving us disgusted looks for a while.”

“Besides, he’s one of the few of us that can actually cook.” Eren turned to look at Erd. The man had given up folding laundry and had sat down on the cobblestones of the courtyard beside his daemon. Erd tipped his head back toward Gunter. “The last time he cooked, he burned everything and messed up the kitchen. I thought we would never get that place clean.”

“And we managed it before the corporal came back and saw the mess,” Petra pipped up.

That made the three of them laugh, Eren finding himself laughing to. Feeling a bit daring, he leaned forward, scratching Theron’s ears when the wolf pressed his head against Eren’s leg. “What about the rest of you?”

“I can cook one thing,” Erd held up one finger, “my wife showed me how and everyone hates it. Petra cooks only when people don’t tell her to, but she’ll make coffee all day.”

Eren looked down at Theron, surprised when his daemon leaned forward. “What about the Corporal?”

“Worse than me.” Gunter nodded slowly. “But he’ll eat anything.”

“Sounds like Sasha.” Eren laughed, cutting the sound off quickly. He looked at his daemon, staring at the strands of grey and brown fur in Theron’s coat. Laughing with the rest of the squad was weird. It was like he had suddenly stopped being a threat, which wasn’t true. He should be carefully watched, not joked with.

He jumped at the flutter of something white out of the corner of his eye, watching as Erhard landed on the ground in front of Theron. The Snow Petral tipped his head back to look up at Theron. “One of your classmates?”

Theron shot an overjoyed look back at Eren before settling down on the ground again, launching into one of Sasha’s food escapades. Slowly, the daemons of the Special Operation Squad inched closer to Theron, eventually forming a circle around him.

Eren resisted the urge to pull Theron closer to him because there was no hostility between any of them. The wolf just had their full attention, all three of them following the story closely as their humans went back to their chores. There would be a break soon enough when lunch came out and none of them could risk taking a break and waiting for food. There was no telling when Corporal Levi would come back, and he would probably demand to know why the four of them were sitting around when there was still so much to be done.

He adjusted the saddle in his lap, going back to scrubbing at some stubborn mold as he listened to Theron, smiling at the memories off their cadet days. Eren was surprised when Erhard quickly spoke up with his own story soon after Theron finished, surprised that the squad was so quick to share with him. He was still the outsider, the dangerous recruit that no one knew what to do with.

Eren looked around at the rest of the squad, watching as they smiled and laughed as their daemons threw stories back and forth. And he marveled at what he had been thrown into.

These were all elite soldiers, all chosen by Corporal Levi, humanity’s strongest, but they were willing to share stories of their training days with him. They were all willing to stand by him despite the fact that he could change at any minute.

It was weird, but it was a good weird. And he found himself enjoying it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Eren – Theron (Eurasian Wolf)](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5f/Kolm%C3%A5rden_Wolf.jpg)   
> [Levi – Hawisia (rat)](http://theratcave.yolasite.com/resources/mink.png)   
> [Petra Ral – Erhard (Snow Petral)](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d1/P%C3%A9trel_des_neiges_-_Snow_Petrel.jpg)   
> [Auruo Bussard – Dagny (Rosella Parrot)](http://www.parrots.org/images/parrotgallery/EasternRosella/wpt1472_medium.jpg)   
> [Erd Gin – Ylva (Sarloos Wolfdog)](http://www.dogbreedslist.info/uploads/allimg/dog-pictures/Saarloos-wolfdog-2.jpg)   
> [Gunter Shulz – Ragna (Pyrenian Mastiff)](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/11/MasPiri-Puma-FIN.jpg)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written as part of Jeanmarco Week (Nov. 11-Nov. 17) for the prompt insecurity

When Jean had started on his mission to convince Marco to be his bunk mate instead of Thomas, Marco hadn’t hesitated to agree. His own bunk mate wasn’t horrible, but Marco had heard Thomas complaining about the way that Jean would end up cuddled up to him with his blankets mashed between them. In the waves of homesickness that hit him every time he settled down to sleep, Marco couldn’t think of anything that sounded better. Even with Aranka to cuddle with at night, it wasn’t the same.

He had gotten used to sharing a room with his brother, Nicolas, back at home. Even when he had gotten his own room in the year before he had enlisted, Marco had wished that he had just stayed in the cramped room, because that was home. It was comforting to have a warm body pressed against his back or one of his sisters in his arms because she had had a nightmare. Aranka was never more comfortable when his siblings’ three daemons were piled around and on top of her as they slept, not even her settling had changed that.

The offer had come through and Marco had taken it without a second thought. He hadn’t even needed to look at Aranka to see if she approved of the idea. Through their link, he could feel her joy. He could also hear the way that her tail whacked against the side of the railing as she wagged it, an outward sign of their excitement. Marco hadn’t even bothered to try and hide it, although he had blushed and accepted the offer. After all, it was everything that they had wanted, the closeness of home without having to admit that they weren’t prepared to serve the king.

Marco just wished that he had thought the offer through more thoroughly, especially considering that it would last three years. A lot of things could happen in three years; new friends, new experiences. New complications.

It had taken a while for the consequences to settle in, mostly because Marco hadn’t seen them coming, and he was willing to bet that Aranka hadn’t either.

On the first night, Jean had acted true to form, Marco waking up partway through the night because Aranka had started out of his arms and jumped to the floor. When he went to lean over the edge of the bunk to see what her problem was he had become aware of the arm that was draped over his side and the wad of blankets pressed up against his back. Marco had glanced over his shoulder just long enough to see that it was Jean and that his bunk mate was still asleep before deciding that it was no big deal. Aranka had jumped back up to the foot of the bed, resting on Marco’s feet before drifting back into a doze. He was only awake long enough to figure out that Aranka had moved so Jean wouldn’t touch her before he settled into the comfortable warmth at his back and fell asleep.

From then on, Aranka had slept at Marco’s feet to avoid Jean’s hands when their friend started to twist in his sleep. It was different from what Marco was used to, but it got better when Maike decided to perch on Aranka’s back at night. Then it was like home, with Aranka content and happy with the company.

In between the training, various chores and the new friends that they were making, Marco didn’t notice the problem until well into the first year. He was sure that he would have noticed it earlier if he and Jean didn’t hang around each other as much as they did. Then it would have been easier to pick out the signs that he had blatantly ignored.

Maike already preferred to perch on Aranka’s back, using the belts of the Pharaoh Hound’s rescue harness to hook her talons into. Marco hadn’t thought anything of it, because it was exactly like how Zrinka would perch on Theron, and Armin and Eren were the best of friends. The grooming that Maike would occasionally give Aranka was harder to wave away, but it didn’t matter so much, because it rarely happened. And Marco was loath to draw attention to something that felt so good. Sometimes, on the mornings that Maike decided to preen Aranka’s short fur, Marco would pretend to be asleep, just so the pleasant sensation would go on for a bit longer. After all, it just felt like gentle warmth on his already aching muscles. With more training always looming on the horizon, Marco was more that willing to fake sleep to ease the ache.

His own reactions were more easily waved off. After living with a bunch of other boys his age for six months, it was hard to be embarrassed about things like morning wood or other bodily functions. Marco didn’t think that he would ever stop blushing, but he was over the deep embarrassment that he had joined the military with. It was just his body reacting to the fact that there was someone pressed close to him. And, if Marco shifted slightly so Jean’s hand rested closer to his hip than his stomach, it was an accident of sleep; one that Marco didn’t want to dwell on much.

Because the friendship between them worked. It was easy, far easier that Marco had thought after first meeting Jean Kirschtein. Marco knew that he tended to be more easy going than most people, but even Jean’s bluntness would have gotten onto his nerves eventually, not that Marco would have ever said that to Jean. But, contrary to his expectations, everything worked out fine. Even their sleeping arrangements. And Marco was not willing to risk the one thing that he was sure that he had gotten right, especially after days of training where he would mess up the entire time and Aranka didn’t even have the strength to wag her tail.

At least he had managed to get one thing right.

* * *

It became a problem during their second year of training. It was probably worse because Marco had ignored it for so long.

He should have seen it coming in the way that Aranka had started drifting from his side. Usually it wouldn’t have even noticed it.

Aranka enjoyed the company of everyone in the 104th’s daemons. When they weren’t completely exhausted from training, Aranka would sometimes wrestle with Theron or Gabija on the floor of their cabin. In the mornings, she would be bounding ahead of him, usually with Maike hanging onto her back. But that was being friendly and social. What Aranka was doing was edging closer to Jean when they stood together, getting as close to him as she possibly could without touching Jean. And, all the while, she would be looking at him, like she was waiting for him to give her answer.

Marco didn’t have an answer for her, because he didn’t know himself. He had understood the way that she had stared at Maike or, occasionally, smoothed the gyrfalcon’s feathers down with her tongue. It wasn’t normal behavior, but Marco understood it. What he didn’t understand was the way that Aranka looked at Jean or how she stared at his hands, So he let her drift slightly because there was no answer that he could give

He didn’t even realize what she was thinking until the 104th had been split up for a training exercise. He and Aranka had remained behind at the barracks while Jean and Maike went with the other group. Marco hadn’t even noticed how much his daemon had missed Jean and Maike because he had been too busy missing them himself. It was just in little ways, like how he expected Jean to make a stupid comment in conversation and then remember that Jean was not there. It was stupid and juvenile because he  _knew_  that Jean would be coming back.

That still didn’t stop him from feeling a bit giddy when Jean and Maike came back. It didn’t stop Aranka at all.

She dashed from his side as soon as the group had ridden down onto the drill field, heading straight for Jean. Marco had one moment of panic when he thought that Aranka would jump on Jean, like she would greet him when he came down from training in the trees. But she changed her direction at the last minute, barely missing Jean as she leapt up to playfully snap at Maike. From the startled looks on Jean and Maike’s faces, they were equally as surprised as Marco.

Although they probably not as surprised as Marco was when he realized that he had  _wanted_  Aranka to brush against Jean.

* * *

Aranka shifted in his arms, Marco lifting one arm from his daemon so she could move easily. She rolled onto her back, lying like that for a while before flipping onto her other side. Marco wiggled back as her paws pressed against his chest, Aranka quickly wriggling into the space she had just gained herself. She rested her head on the pillow, staring at Marco. “It’s cold.”

Marco laughed and petted her head. “It’s not  _that_  cold.”

He got a huff as an answer, Aranka obviously not happy. She would just have to deal with it, like he was. Jean and Maike had gotten themselves in trouble fighting with Eren and Theron. Marco could only do so much to keep them out of trouble before it was best to just let Jean suffer the consequences. It had been one of those times, but Marco had not predicted how it would affect them. Both Jean and Eren were stuck in the dining hall, cleaning up the mess that they had both made. While they were working, he and Aranka had to deal with a strangely empty bed.

Marco dropped his arm over Aranka, tugging her as close as he could. It wouldn’t make up from the usual warmth along his back that was Jean, but it would do until his friend got back.

He opened his eyes when he felt Aranka lick his cheek, staring at his daemon as she curled her paws back against her. Aranka didn’t meet his eyes, just staring at his collarbones. “Can I stay here for the night?”

Marco stared at his daemon, trying to figure out what she meant. “Of course you can. Why would you-”

“Even after Jean rolls over?” Aranka glanced up at him briefly before ducking her head. “It’s just that…Do you ever wonder what it would feel like?”

“W-what?”

Aranka nudged his chin with her muzzle. “I mean Jean. Don’t you ever wonder?”

Marco swallowed harshly, closing his eyes again. He had considered the idea briefly, but he had shoved it away just as quickly. Training was not the ideal place to be going into relationships. There was no telling what their future would be, or if they would be alive come the end of the year. They had already lost so many recruits to training, and joining one of the three branches could be just as dangerous.

He knew that Jean would be joining the Military Police with him, but there were still things that could happen. Riots, a crime gone wrong. Anything. And then there was the fact that what they had in training might not last the rest of their lives. Marco might have been optimistic, but he wasn’t so naïve to believe that everything would just remain the same.

To have Jean touch Aranka would be giving Jean his soul, his _everything_. He trusted Jean, but he wasn’t sure that he was ready for that.

He pressed his face against the top of Aranka’s head, holding her close as he felt her shaking. “I can’t.”

“But I want it.”

“I know.” Marco pressed a kiss to her fur. “I want it too, but I need to be sure.”

“I understand.” The words were muffled against his chest, but it was enough to get Marco to relax.

He smiled, cuddling his daemon close. She was put off for now, but she would bug him with the question later. Aranka could be impatient sometimes, and Marco had a feeling that she would never let up with this. And, now that she had mentioned it, he probably wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it. Being around Jean and hiding that was going to be hard. Hopefully he would be too occupied with Eren to notice any weird behavior.

Marco pulled the covers more securely around them. “We’ll wait until after graduation, when we go to the interior. Things should be easier then.”

Aranka gave a sleepy sound of agreement, Marco feeling the tug of her exhaustion on their bond.

The issue wasn’t settled for sure, but it would give them enough breathing room to figure it out. Maybe it would give him some time to broach the subject to Jean. That would be better than Aranka leaping into his arms the next time they were gone for so long. If anything, Marco wanted whatever they would have to be quiet, because he didn’t want to share whatever it was with everyone. They could all know about him and Jean, but any touching of daemons would have to be secret. Just their little thing.

The idea made Marco smile. He pressed his face into the pillow, trying to school his expression into something different. There was no telling if someone was awake and he didn’t feel like explaining himself to someone like Connie. Then it would be known to everyone within minutes of everyone waking up. Marco was not quite ready to be the butt of the recruit gossip, not like Hannah and Franz.

Even that was not enough to stop him from smiling, Marco gave Aranka a gentle squeeze, He settled down to wait for Jean to come back from cleaning the dining room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marco - Aranka (Pharaoh Hound)   
> Jean - Maike (Gyrfalcon)


End file.
